Shadow Reaper (Shadow #2)(57)

The pain had been agony, but he set it aside, hearing the cries of the toddler on the floor, so broken, a maddened teenager attacking the boy so viciously. "It was you, Mariko, who saved the day. If you hadn't found the strength and courage to go after Nao a second time, I wouldn't have managed to kill Kenta."



"I jumped on his back," Mariko whispered. "Kicking and hitting him, pulling his hair. I think I even bit him."



Ricco nodded. "I slammed the edge of my hand into Kenta's throat with every bit of strength and adrenaline I had." All the fear. All the rage. All the knowledge that he was a shadow rider and this was what he was born to do. He might have been late, but Nao would not have his last two victims.



"I had a pen I'd picked up off the floor and I jammed it into Kenta's eye. A horrible rattling noise emerged from his throat, as if the sound was being squeezed out." He shook his head. "It was a horrible sound. I picked up his sword and hit Kenta in the head and then turned toward Nao. He had you in his lap."



Mariko touched her throat. "He had a knife."



Ricco had to keep going, to get it all out so she would know the details in her dream were real. "In one move, still spinning, I cut through flesh and bone with Kenta's sword. I wasn't trying to cripple him for life. Only to keep him from killing you and your brother."



       
         
       
        



Nao screamed, the sound high-pitched, mixing with Ryuu's cries until Ricco couldn't tell them apart. He still remembered those desperate sounds every single night. Sometimes they were so loud he sat in his bed, hands over his ears, trying to drown them out. Behind him, Kenta had crumpled in slow motion, his eyes rolling back in his head so only white showed. In front of him, Nao collapsed, falling into Akiko's blood, his arms thrashing as his legs lay useless. Those images were locked in his brain as well, the artist in him seeing the blood as red ribbons, as crimson rivers, as dark wine pooling below the bodies.



"I ran to Ryuu," she whispered. "His body was so crushed and twisted I just held and rocked him. I remember blood getting onto my clothes and hair."



He nodded. Tears were running down her face, just as they had when she was that little white-haired girl. "Ryuu and Nao were still alive." In shock he called the number to bring the council members to the horrific scene. Then his nightmare had really begun. He supposed hers had as well, and she'd been so much younger. He had his family; she had no one.



"Osamu Saito raised us. Ryuu and me. She hated me with every breath she drew and it got worse every year."



Ricco had felt sick with grief and anger over what the council members had done to him. Forcing him to stay in Tokyo, enduring their threats of telling others he'd murdered an entire family if he didn't cooperate. Afraid they would carry out their threats of killing his family if he told anyone what had happened. He'd felt so alone even in the midst of family who loved him.



Now the rage roiling inside him like dark ominous clouds threatened to spill over, fed by what Mariko had gone through. The men had known how Osamu had treated her, but they'd done nothing in order to protect their reputations. He moved again, closer to her, wanting to hold her, offer her comfort. She moved away from him and he froze, everything inside him going still.



"I need to be alone," she said. "This is a lot to take in."



Her body language screamed not to be touched. To be left alone. What could he say to that? She was asking for space. He knew all about that. He also knew she was separating herself from him. She was rejecting him as surely as he'd expected her to. He nodded and watched her leave his bedroom. She walked away from him without once looking back. Not once. He didn't try to stop her. What was there to say? He'd told her the truth. She knew she was a Tanaka and that her family had been brutally murdered and her brother stomped on until his body was deformed. She knew he had been late. He'd gotten lost. 



No way was he ever lost now. He kept a map in his head at all times and he rode the shadows tirelessly every new place he visited until he was familiar with every block. Every rural area. That didn't make up for being late; it would never make up for being late due to him not studying hard enough, but it would ensure it wouldn't happen again. Unless …  He sighed and lay back down on the bed, his head throbbing again in protest of movement. Unless he was late because he was caught up in something else  – someone else  – like Mariko.